


Hulk Smash: The Chocolate Chip Cookie Story

by OldToadWoman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Fluff and Humor, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV Bruce Banner, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), see notes for additional characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 14:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14286675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldToadWoman/pseuds/OldToadWoman
Summary: * Korg has a crush on Hulk.* Bruce Banner is confused.* There are chocolate chip cookies.(Set immediately afterRagnarokand theoretically spanning the events inInfinity War, butdon't think for a minute that I have any idea what's actually going to happen in that film. This gets to be my head-canon for two weeks before I admitit is a canon-divergent AUwhere everyone lives happily ever after with hugs and chocolate chip cookies.)





	1. Teensy and Adorable

**Author's Note:**

> See the endnotes for a list of additional characters in case you have any "I refuse to read this if X is in it" restrictions. (Bruce, Korg, and Hulk are the main characters and everyone else is relegated to supporting roles or even just a passing mention.)
> 
> **NOTE: Please read the title again and be prepared for this story to be sweet, sweet fluff. I don't want to hear anyone whining later about how it's out of character for any of these people to bake cookies. There will be cookies!**
> 
> THANK YOU: Thank you, thank you, thank you to my proofreaders [Erinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinos), [Amilyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilyn/works), and [Persephone Garnata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_garnata/works). You'd be brilliant enough as is, but putting up with my "I changed two paragraphs! Can you go back and look at it _again_?" is truly appreciated.

Bruce Banner came back to himself to the sound of a Kiwi surfer dude chatting about his cousin's cat. It was equal parts soothing and inexplicable.

"You just can't hate the tiny thing, y'know," the lilting voice was saying. "Like it's utterly evil, like it hates _everyone_. But it's just so _fluffy_."

Bruce blinked the green haze out of his eyes and then yelped in surprise. The surfer dude was not a surfer dude or a New Zealander or even a Human. He was a large rock monster nearly as big as the big guy himself. _Rock monster_ as in _made out of fucking rocks_.

"Oh, hello," the rock monster said politely. "You must be Dr. Banner. I've heard quite a bit about you. My name is Korg. I'm made of rocks."

"I… noticed," Bruce said, casting a nervous look around the… cafeteria? They seemed to be in a mess hall of sorts. There were a handful of Asgardians eating and knocking back flagons of beer or mead or something at the far side of the room. Nearer by, there were the broken remains of a table and a couple of chairs—evidence, not that he needed it, that the big guy had been here recently. 

None of the Asgardians seemed particularly concerned though. 

"Have you met Miek?" the rock monster asked, pointing to a large grub sort of thing that was lying on the floor nearby. "That's Miek." 

Bruce wondered how long he'd been out of it this time. He felt he had missed a few major plot points. If he had recognized a single familiar face, he would've asked a dozen questions, but he felt off-kilter in a roomful of strangers.

He turned his attention back to the terrifying rock monster, who—instead of ripping his head off or attempting to smash him into jelly—was holding out his huge rocky hand. The rock monster wanted to shake hands.

"Nice to meet you?" Bruce said. He didn't mean for it to sound like a question. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Mr. Korg, was it?"

"Just Korg," Korg said cheerfully, extending his hand further. " _Mr._ Korg is my father, ha-ha. I'm kidding. Kronans don't follow patronymic naming conventions."

"Bruce," Bruce said, tentatively reaching out. 

Korg grasped his hand with surprising gentleness.

"Look at your cute little fingers," Korg squeaked, leaning in for a closer look at Bruce's hand. 

"What?" 

"I'd heard you were little, but I had no idea you'd be so teensy and adorable." 

Korg patted Bruce on the head. 

"What? Ow!" 

"Sorry! You look so much like a cute little version of an Asgardian, I forgot they told me Humans are very fragile."

Bruce felt simultaneously offended and grateful that Korg wasn't planning to squash him like a bug.

Korg picked up a chair that wasn't smashed to pieces, shook the dust off of it, and set it down right-side up for Bruce. "There you go," he said as he himself sat down on the floor near the big alien grub whose name Bruce had already forgotten.

Bruce hesitated. "I feel bad using a chair if you have to sit on the floor."

Korg shrugged. "Not a lot of furniture on board for people our size."

"On board?" Bruce quickly rethought the location of the cafeteria. He considered sitting on the floor with Korg as a show of solidarity, but they weren't even remotely the same scale so sitting in the chair was the only way he'd be able to talk to him without giving himself a kink in his neck. "There are a lot more of you—your people—on board?" he asked.

"Nah, just me. I'm the only Kronan here. When I say 'we' I mean the Champion and I. When we get to Earth, I guess we're going to have to build custom furniture. They tell me the whole planet is little people like yourself."

The _little people_  quip nearly derailed him, but there was a more important point Bruce needed to clarify, "We're on a ship going back to Earth?"

"Oh, that's right. You don't remember the things the Champion experienced. So I guess the last thing you remember was just before Asgard was destroyed."

"Asgard was destroyed?!"

The creature at Korg's side tilted its head at Bruce in response to his outburst. The alien grub had bumps that might have been eyes. If so, it had too many of them. If not, Bruce wasn't sure how it could see. It might not seem possible for an alien grub with possibly too many or too few eyes to look like it was watching him with contempt, but nonetheless, Bruce was overcome with the sense that he was being judged and found wanting.

"Oh, yeah," Korg answered. "That was just before—"

"Could you _please_ start at the beginning," Bruce pleaded. "Y'know, tell the story in order maybe?"

"There's a coincidence," Korg said cheerfully, "because actually I was _just_ telling you that story. It started with my cousin's cat you see. Mind you, he wasn't _technically_ my cousin, and when I say _cat_ …"

Interrupting Korg only lead to more tangents and Bruce finally gave up and settled in to listen to the story of the fluffy pet that wasn't exactly a cat, which was somehow the reason Korg didn't have enough pamphlets and hated his mother's boyfriend, which was somehow part of how Korg ended up a political prisoner battling in the arena where the big guy fought as Champion.

Fortunately, one of the Asgardians took pity on Bruce and brought him a flagon of mead. It didn't make the story shorter, but it was much easier to listen to after that.


	2. Our Story So Far

"Wait," Bruce said for at least the sixteenth time. For a change, Korg actually paused and smiled expectantly at him. "Could you go back to the part where Thor stepped out for a bit?"

Korg shrugged silently, or at least silently aside from the accompanying gravelly sound of shifting rock.

"We're in _outer space_ ," Bruce added. "You don't just _step out_ into outer space."

"There was another ship," Korg said. "A really big one. I think Loki knew the guy. Thor too, I guess, because Thor said he was gonna go hang out and he'd catch up with us on Earth. Loki's keen on setting up a camouflaged city on Earth when we get there. Something about a bit of trouble with the locals the last time he was there."

Bruce scoffed, but then winced as Korg continued.

"Thor said the Champion damaged a country or something and that you'd need to lay low for a bit as well."

Bruce frowned. He needed to get more details from Thor about that. He didn't _want_ to know the details, but he needed to know. Except now Thor wasn't here.

"Thor went to _go hang_ with a friend of Loki's? Why would he do that?" It was a rhetorical question. He didn't expect Korg would know, but the big rock man responded anyway.

"Loki didn't say." 

Something clicked then.

" _Thor_ said he was going to go hang out with this guy? Or _Loki said_ that Thor said that?"

"The second one."

"I'm going to need another giant flagon of mead."

 _…later…_  

"Doug snored anyway. Awful roommate when I think about it," Korg was saying. "And you were very impressive. Your muscles barely even rippled with any effort. I thought… Oh, hello again, Dr. Banner. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the way you do that."

They weren't in the mess hall any longer. It looked like an empty storage room perhaps. Bruce was sitting on a crate. Korg was sitting directly opposite him on another crate. It was black and red, and had yellow writing stenciled with Sakaaran script and a big yellow arrow pointing down. Korg's feet comfortably rested on the floor, meaning that, on his matching crate, Bruce's bare legs dangled in midair. Bruce still had the shredded remnants of an Asgardian cloak pinned around his shoulder. He had not been so fortunate in the trouser department.

Bruce clasped both hands over his genitals. "What the…?!"

Korg's gaze dropped to crotch level and nodded to himself. "That doesn't seem like a very good design for defense. Having sensitive fleshy bits just dangling right out in front like that. I would never have imagined that the Champion had such a massive weakness."

"Do I have pants around here somewhere?" Bruce asked, scanning the room. 

In addition to the two crates they were sitting on—which had been arranged at a nice conversational distance in the corner—there were rows and rows of crates up to the ceiling, all with the same yellow writing and arrows. The resulting pattern made Bruce's eyes water. Interlocking safety latches kept the crates from shifting in transit, but Bruce still felt dwarfed by the scale of the room. In the corner, behind the crates that they were sitting on, there was what Bruce could only think of as a _nest_ of packing material. It seemed like the best place to find clothing, but Korg dashed his hopes before he could even climb down from the crate and look.

"Nah, your trousers didn't make it out of the cafeteria," Korg said. "I don't mean to be sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, but if you don't mind a bit of advice; have you considered not wearing your trousers so tight? A touch more _give_ might be a good idea. Or maybe a skirt, have you thought about a skirt? You look rather fetching in a skirt," Korg added as Bruce stood on top of the crate and re-pinned the cloak around his waist.

"Like a kilt?" Bruce asked. "Whose is this anyway?"

Korg shrugged. "Didn't catch his name."

"A stranger just gave me his cloak?" Bruce was only half paying attention to his own questions as he tried to calculate the distance to the floor. It wasn't high enough to do him a serious injury if he jumped, but knowing his luck, he'd twist an ankle and re-Hulk. What he needed as a smaller crate to serve as a step.

"He said you were making all the other men look bad. By _you_ , I mean the Champion, obviously. I guess you call that version of yourself the big guy for a reason, eh? I doubt _this_ genitalia would intimidate anyone. I think the man meant you to wear it wrapped all the way around, but you, _other you_ , I mean—gods, this is confusing—said something about a superhero cape and…"

Bruce stopped calculating the best way off the crate and stared at Korg. "So, I've just been strutting around the ship in a cape with my… my _fleshy bits_ out?"

"Yup."

"For how long?"

"Day and a half maybe?"

Bruce sat back down heavily. A day and a half of running around naked. _With a cape_. In his mind, the cape made it worse somehow.

"It could have been worse I guess," Bruce said, not fully convincing himself. "I was hulked out on Sakaar for two years."

"No," Korg said.

"No?"

"Gone from Earth for two years maybe, but on Sakaar longer."

"Longer?"

" _Much_ longer. Time works differently there. Did no one tell you?"

" _How much_ longer?"

"At least four, possibly five…"

"Over four years?"

"Decades."

"Decades?!"

"Yup."

"I think I need a drink."

"Are you sure? That's what you said last time before you lost your trousers."

"I did?"

"You said, quote, 'The green guy can deal with the hangover.' Unquote. You, _green_ you, were a bit unhappy about that part. Just thought you should know."

"On second thought. Maybe I'll wait until we're back on Earth for that drink. The Asgardian stuff is a bit… stronger than I'm used to."

Korg nodded. "They told me you were smart."


	3. Yoga Pants

Bruce forgot it was Loki who first suggested yoga. If only he had remembered that point, he would have been more cautious. 

He only remembered that _someone_ had suggested it as a method of staying calm and while he had immediately dismissed it as unhelpful—meditation hadn't worked, self-hypnosis hadn't worked, why the hell would yoga work?—it never occurred to him that the idea was _dangerous_.

When Korg suggested to… Scrapper 142? The Valkyrie? (When he'd asked what he should call her, she'd shrugged and said, "Whatever," without looking at him)… that she try this human exercise called yoga, Bruce only thought that a Valkyrie-in-yoga-pants was more than enough reason to join the class.

That thought was accompanied by feelings of guilt or, if not guilt, at least anxiety, because he had a strong suspicion that the big guy disapproved.

When it turned out Loki was _teaching_ the class, that should have been the second big, red flag, but he figured Loki was only in it to make them look stupid and Bruce had long ago made peace with looking stupid.

Also, by then the Valkyrie-in-yoga-pants was no longer theoretical.

"Hi," Bruce said, struggling with his mat. It wasn't a proper yoga mat, but Korg had found them quilted pads in storage. They were a bit thicker than yoga mats but only slightly wider. They were stained with oil and hydraulic fluid suggesting they were meant to serve as a mechanic's pads, but they didn't smell too bad and seemed to have been given a superficial cleaning. He never questioned where all the exercise clothes had come from. "Hi," he repeated when she glanced his way.

This made her smile for some reason. _"Hi,"_ she said.

Bruce put his mat down between Korg and Scrapper 142 and tried to think pure thoughts. Technically there was no way for the big guy to smash Bruce into a pulp and yet… he wasn't going to risk it. Banner was not good enough for Hulk's honorary little sister and he knew it. 

"This is boring," she announced after their first Child pose.

Loki ignored her and lead them to a Cobra followed by Downward Dog.

" _How_ is _this_ physical training?" she asked.

"It's good for balance?" Bruce suggested as they switched to Half Moon. 

"I'm not drunk enough for this to be a challenge. Is this one of those human drinking games Thor told me about?"

"Not really," Bruce said and, realizing that wasn't helpful, clarified, "No, not at all actually."

"What's the point of doing this sober? My balance is fine."

Bruce tried to shrug, but in the off-center pose, his own balance wavered. He suggested uncertainly, "It also helps tone—"

"It's about balancing your _mind_ ," Korg interrupted cheerfully.

Despite his role of instructor, Loki stayed silent on the benefits of yoga and let Korg chatter on, only speaking up to announce the next position—Triangle, Tree, Full Locust—without ever explaining what any of the words meant.

Bruce had to deduce the pose by watching Korg and Loki, which was often difficult to do when he was supposed to simultaneously be stretching the other way.

Korg should not have been that limber. Bruce swore he could feel his own ligaments popping as he tried and failed to get his body into the same positions. 

He thought that the Valkyrie would have been at a similar disadvantage as the only other new person in the class, but… her muscles just moved in ways his never would. She wasn't _happy_ about it, but she had no difficulty _doing_ any of it.

The Valkyrie kept up her muttered complaints, perking up briefly when Loki announced Warrior pose and then sulking when it was, "Even easier than Tree." (Bruce kept falling out of Tree position and now Warrior was making his left thigh twinge.)

The transitions came faster. Loki announced that they would do Cat, Cow, Camel, King Dancer, Crane, Eagle, Shoulder Stand, Headstand, and finish with Corpse.

Bruce was looking forward to Corpse. It sounded restful. 

He didn't even make it past King Dancer.

Later, Korg would swear that the big guy did a surprisingly elegant Crane.

The Valkyrie told him that yoga turned out to be more interesting than she had first thought and that she was looking forward to the next session as a sort of pre-exercise warm-up, but Loki refused to teach another class. 

Apparently, Hulk-in-yoga-pants was not a concept he had fully thought through ahead of time.


	4. Human Delicacies

Bruce choked. He couldn't remember ever coming back to himself mid-chew. He'd never even imagined the big guy eating. Obviously, he must eat if he'd been hulked out for years— _had it really been decades?_ —on Sakaar, but it still didn't seem like a Hulk-like thing to do.

Korg delicately tapped Bruce on the back. Bruce would have the irrational sensation that his ribs were vibrating for _days_ afterward.

Bruce coughed out a chalky bit of something grainy. He couldn't quite identify the flavor even as he stared at the crumbling disc in his hands.

There was an entire tray of what appeared to be gigantic cookies sitting on top of a packing crate. He and Korg were back in the storeroom which Bruce was beginning to suspect was serving as Korg's room. There was no actual furniture, but with the crates arranged strategically and a nest of blankets and packing material in the corner it almost felt cozy. 

Bruce was sitting on top of one of the crates, legs dangling off the side. At least he had pants on this time. The stretchy material had survived relatively unscathed. A smaller box had been pushed against the side of Bruce's crate to serve as a step just as he had imagined. He'd have no difficulty getting down from the crate this time.

"Hello again," Korg said and his voice seemed to have lost his trademark cheerfulness. If Bruce didn't know better, he'd think Korg was disappointed to see him. "You're welcome to finish the cookies. I made them myself."

" _You_ … made…?" Bruce couldn't wrap his mind around the image of Korg baking cookies. Each cookie was the size of a dinner plate, nearly two centimeters thick, and dotted with… beans of some kind. "What kind of cookies are these?"

"Chocolate chip cookies," Korg said with a nod, adding, "Loki told me they were a Human delicacy."

"Did he… Did he explain what chocolate chips _are_?" Bruce asked as politely as he could. He picked at the crumbly bits between the beans. It had a sweet flavor with a strong hint of honey, but the texture reminded Bruce of something he'd bought in a health food store once, excessively mealy and dry. He risked another experimental taste of the beans. Yes, definitely beans. Not exactly black beans or pinto but definitely something in the bean family.

"I know they're not the actual chocolate beans," Korg said. "The closest we have in the ship's storage is a type of Asgardian bean that…"

" _Cocoa_ beans. Chocolate comes from cocoa beans, but they're not quite… Y'know, when we get back to Earth, I'll introduce you to real chocolate chip cookies," Bruce said. Korg continued to watch him expectantly, so he broke off a piece without any beans in it and gave it a good gnawing. "This is a really good effort, though, considering you didn't have access to pretty much  _any_ of the right ingredients. I can't possibly finish this much. Have one?" He pushed the plate at Korg.

"Thank you very much." Korg accepted one of the cookies that he had made himself as if it were a gift from Bruce. He raised the cookie as if in a toast and said, "Cheers". He then proceeded to pulverize the cookie in his mouth, crumbs falling every which way. It reminded Bruce of Cookie Monster. From the cookie's point of view, it definitely seemed like it was getting eaten, but none of it seemed to be going down Korg's throat. Did Korg even have an esophagus? Did rock people digest plants and grains? Or did they normally eat dirt or sand or something else?

Bruce swiped tears out of his eyes. That was weird. He definitely had tears running down both cheeks. It must have been a part of the choking reflex. _Bruce_ certainly hadn't cried. The only alternative was to think that Hulk had gotten weepy over someone making him a plate of cookies, which wasn't even remotely possible.


	5. Beautiful Angry Person

"But 'Valkyrie' is more of a job description, isn't it?" Bruce asked.

The beautiful Asgardian didn't even bother to shrug. She flicked her eye at Bruce briefly while continuing to eat, but that was the most acknowledgment she gave him.

"Calling you 'Valkyrie', that's like calling someone 'Waiter' or 'Bartender' or something, isn't it? It feels rude to me. Is it really any better than 'Scrapper'? What did the big guy call you."

"Little Girl," she said with a smile, knowing full well that Bruce couldn't use that one. "Sometimes he calls me Angry Girl."

Bruce wasn't going to touch any variation of 'girl', little or otherwise. "I, I can't," he stuttered. "I can't just go around calling you _Beautiful Angry Person_." 

He looked around the table for people to back him up. Across the table, Miek just glared at him. Or ignored him entirely. It was difficult to tell with Miek. He had acquired a set of very pointy artificial limbs since Bruce first met him. He ate his food by stabbing it with his attached weaponry and then slurping the food off the blade with his pincers. Bruce was probably only imagining that he did so in a threatening manner.

"You know, I have the same problem," Korg said from his place on the floor near the end of the table. Bruce wasn't sure why Korg continued to join them for meals. He still wasn't sure what Kronans consumed for sustenance, but it didn't seem to be food as Bruce understood it. "Addressing someone constantly as 'The Champion' feels so awkward," Korg continued, "but 'big guy' feels too informal. And 'The Incredible Hulk'? That's just stupid."

Loki smirked, but the god bit his tongue for once.

"Beautiful Angry Person is certainly fitting," Korg said, "but I'll agree it doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."

"What does 'Valkyrie' mean in your language?" Bruce asked.

"Well," one of the Asgardians farther down the table said, "basically 'beautiful angry person' covers it."

"Do you _have_ a name?" Bruce asked, feeling exceptionally stupid even as he said it.

She sighed and rolled her eyes before finally saying, "Brunnhilde." She swept her gaze around the table as if daring any of them to say anything about it.

Loki giggled.

"That's a nice name," Bruce said, giving Loki the side-eye, even as his traitorous brain conjured up images of Bugs Bunny in a metal bikini.

"Your ship name can be BruBru," Loki said with a big grin, no longer even trying to hide his amusement.

Brunnhilde frowned and Bruce tried not to be too upset at her rejection before he realized she was just confused about why Loki was talking about naming a ship after them.

He had a fraction of a second to be grateful she didn't get the reference before Korg helpfully explained it to her. Bruce walked out listening to her laughter while Korg tried out a few of his own. "Borg? Brurg?" 

Miek's head swiveled around to watch Bruce's exit. So definitely not ignoring him then. The glaring still didn't really make sense though.

Bruce knew perfectly well that Brunnhilde was well out of his league, but it had never occurred to him that _Korg_ might be among his competition. He'd pretty much said that he didn't even _have_ … _vulnerable bits_ , hadn't he? How could he even…? Although if anyone could take on the rock monster, it would be the Valkyrie. 

Bruce cut off his own train of thought. He absolutely did not need or want to think about how Kronan sexy times worked. Ever.


	6. First Fight

The very first impression Bruce had when meeting Korg was that the giant rock monster was going to rip his head from his body at any moment. But there was something about him that Bruce instantly trusted. 'Korg' equaled 'safe'.

So their first fight was a bit of a surprise.

"You're being kind of a dick," Korg said.

"Excuse me?"

"You know what a dick is," Korg said. "I've seen yours flapping around often enough."

"I, you, that's," Bruce sputtered. " _He's_ the dick! And, you, you're a dick for even suggesting…"

"You've been in Human form for two weeks," Korg said in an infuriatingly reasonable voice.

"Two weeks? So what?! _Decades_ , Korg, I was trapped as the Hulk for decades!"

"That wasn't your fault. You didn't plan to get captured and put in an arena."

" _My_ fault? I wasn't the one who…" Bruce was too rattled to even finish the sentence. Bruce had never even seen the inside of the Grandmaster's arena. Korg had this inexplicable tendency to refer to Bruce and the big guy as if they were the same person. It was very disorienting.

"Granted," Korg admitted with a shrug, "I think you enjoyed that part just a little, but it wasn't _planned_."

"So you think we should just go in on a time-share of my body?" Bruce asked.

"I was thinking three days a week," Korg said as if Bruce was seriously agreeing to this insanity. "That's actually an advantage of one day to Dr. Banner. Do you think the days should be sequential or do you prefer to alternate?"

When Korg wasn't mixing up Bruce and the big guy he was occasionally referring to "Dr. Banner" as if he weren't the person in the room, which was equally confusing.

Bruce glowered at Korg.

It didn't work.

Korg had been glowered at by scarier men and beasts than Bruce Banner.

He didn't even seem to notice the glowering.

"Green Monday, Wednesday, and Friday? Pink the rest of the week?"

"Pink the rest of…?" Bruce repeated.

"Or would you describe yourself as a beige sort of color?"

"You're getting hung up on the least important part here. I am _not_ surrendering my body to that monster just because you want a sparring partner!"

"'Monster' is a bit rude, don't you think?"

"Oh. Sorry. That was… was that racist?" Bruce had so much to adapt to. His life still felt dreamlike. Or nightmarelike.

"A little, yeah."

He wished again for a familiar face and wished even more that he weren't alienating his only friend on the ship, but he needed Korg to understand the danger. "The point is that he's a dangerous, mindless, raging…"

"Hardly _mindless_ , Bruce. You're still a person, even when you're in one of your moods."

" _ONE OF MY **MOODS**?!!_ " His vision got a little bit hazy and green around the edges and Bruce had to stop and put concerted effort into deep breaths.

"There, there," Korg said, gently taking Bruce's hands in his. "Remember those relaxation techniques we talked about?"

"What? When? No."

But the nice rock monster began humming and swaying side to side and Bruce had little choice but to sway with him hands linked, which really was sort of calming, but Bruce drew the line at humming. He did not hum along.

Korg finally stopped humming and stood still. "It was a mistake to bring this up while you're feeling vulnerable," he announced.

The word 'vulnerable' hit too close to home. Bruce realized he wasn't even angry anymore, just a little tired and a lot scared.

"Korg, I get that you were gladiator buddies with the big guy," he began.

"Oh, no. The Champion wouldn't have been able to pick me out of a lineup. We weren't even in the same league."

"So, I guess, he was like a big celebrity on Sakaar and now you think it's cool that you get to hang out, but this…" Bruce floundered in search of a word other than 'monster'. "He's _violent_ and he _hurts people_. He has _killed_ people. He's the personification of mindless rage. I completely lose myself when he takes over. I never know what he's going to do. What I'm going to wake up to. _If_ I'm going to wake up even. The last time he took over it was _years_ , _decades_." Bruce still couldn't quite believe how long he'd been on Sakaar. Did the big guy not age?

"No," Korg said firmly. "The last time did _not_ last years. The _last_ time was only a few hours. You didn't kill or even slightly maim anyone. You took over Loki's yoga class—greatly improving it, if I may say. Ask Brunnhilde if you don't believe me. We had some dinner in the mess hall. And then we made cookies."

" _We_ made cookies?" Bruce repeated.

"Well, me, mostly, but you helped," Korg said, "a bit."

"Helped?"

"Well, you convinced the quartermaster to let us have the beans and the flour and the use of the kitchen. We wouldn't have had any cookies otherwise."

Bruce couldn't wrap his mind around it, so he just shook it off and continued. "The point is that I can't just trade off alternate days with a mindless beast. He's dangerous. I never know what he'll do."

"Can you ever know what anyone will do?" Korg asked as if they could just have a casual discussion about philosophy in the middle of this.

"And I never know how long I'll be gone when I turn. What if I'm trapped for another forty years?"

"You've had no trouble turning back the last three times that I've witnessed," Korg said. "If we can just come up with a schedule that you could both reach an agreement on…"

"Agreement? Korg, you're not listening. He doesn't understand anything other than 'Hulk smash'. You can't reason with him."

Korg looked Bruce up and down, harumphed, and then stalked out of the room.


	7. Beautiful Annoying Person

The ship didn't really have a lab, but Bruce settled into a corner between navigation and engineering and tried to make himself useful, offering opinions when it seemed appropriate. The Asgardians did not particularly appreciate the Human's input, but they at least regarded him as harmless and shared what they knew.

At least twice per day, an engineer told him to stick to navigation and a navigator told him to stick to engineering. Apparently, the two groups communicated so poorly that they had yet to work out that he hadn't been invited to get involved at all. Thus, rather than science, Bruce's main contribution ended up being a liaison between the two.

The problem at hand was that the ship itself was not Asgardian technology. After an excessive list of modifications, they'd gotten the estimated transit time to Earth down to another two months.

Bruce wanted to complain. Two more months were intolerable. No one had even assigned quarters to him, so he'd ended up in the storage room with Korg. However, to be fair, _he'd_ only worked out how to get the ship back to Earth in approximately three millennia so he couldn't really grumble too much about two months.

Asgardian technology crossed the line into magic, which both frustrated and intrigued him. Bruce Banner was not used to feeling dumb. If he could just get someone to _explain_ rather than brushing off his questions.

"Hello, Doctor Bruce Banner," Brunnhilde said, sauntering in as Bruce tried to decipher the modifications someone had made to the engines.

"Hello, Valkyrie Brunnhilde," he replied warily. Brunnhilde's sense of humor was questionable and she was smiling slightly too much for his comfort.

"Korg says you're being a dick."

"Yeah, well, Korg can suck it."

"In his _dreams_."

"What?"

"Nevermind. You'll figure it out  _eventually_."

She reached out and poked him in the chest.

Bruce stared at her.

She poked him in the forehead.

Bruce's jaw went slack.

She poked his shoulder.

"What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Annoying you."

"Yeah, I got that."

Brunnhilde began poking alternate shoulders in turn.

"Korg said Beige Bruce was being a dick," she said. "So I'd like to have a word with Green Bruce."

"No!" He tried to dodge out of her way, but there was no escaping the pokes. They weren't even painful exactly, but definitely annoying, and there was a promise in the air of what kind of pain she could inflict if she wanted to.

"Korg's too polite to do it himself," she said. "He's got morals and shit. Plus I think he's worried you'd be mad at him."

"I should think so!"

"Me? Not so much with the morals or the worry."

"Brunnhilde, you can't—"

"Yeah, you're right. We shouldn't do this in here. Wouldn't want to smash any important controls."

"Exactly!"

"I'm glad you're being reasonable," Brunnhilde said.

"I'm always reasona—"

His words were cut off as Brunnhilde scooped him up effortlessly and slung him over her shoulder.

They were halfway down the corridor when the green haze blotted out his vision.


	8. The Bigger Man

"…who the bigger man really is," Bruce heard himself say. Not just heard, _felt_. His lips and tongue moved without his permission to finish a sentence he didn't remember starting.

"Atta boy," Korg said.

"What happened?" Bruce asked. He was kneeling on the floor facing a wall. And talking to himself apparently? 

"Up here." Korg offered Bruce a hand up.

Bruce clutched Korg's hand and staggered to his feet. He glanced around to get his bearings. It didn't help. He didn't recognize this part of the ship.

He finally risked being a cliché. "Where are we?"

Korg shrugged. "No one's using this terminal because the transmitter's broken so they didn't mind if we used it."

"How are we using a broken terminal? _Why_ are we using a broken terminal?" Bruce entertained the idea that he should just surrender and accept that his fate was to be eternally confused while Korg chatted amiably, but then he remembered something that made his temples throb. "Brunnhilde kidnapped me!"

"Yes, I did explain to her that she can't do that," Korg said, "more than once a week."

"Once a week?" Bruce repeated wide-eyed.

"She was pushing for alternate days, but I stayed firm on that."

"What? You're saying she scheduled weekly kidnappings?"

" _Kidnapping_ 's hardly the right word, is it? She wasn't holding you for ransom or anything. She said she just carried you out of the room with all the fragile things in it before you turned."

"That's the point! She turned me into that  _thing_ on purpose!"

"Now, Bruce," Korg said. "We agreed we wouldn't be using any pejoratives."

Bruce had _had_ it. "But he _is_ a monster!"

"How about you just watch this first," Korg said pointing at a wall-mounted monitor. "The controls are designed for tiny fingers. If you could do me a favor and just push _that_ one."

"You said it was broken," Bruce protested.

"Transmitter's broken. Record function works just fine. That button right there. The one I'm pointing at. That one. There. Yes. No. The purple one next to… Look where I'm pointing."

Bruce pressed the purple button and then startled back as the Valkyrie's image mimicked his movements on screen.

+++

> "Are you _sure_ you don't want to go with alternating days?" Brunnhilde asked someone over her shoulder. "You get the maximum benefit from sparring if you schedule every other—"
> 
> "Hulk gets weekends!" an off-screen voice insisted.
> 
> The Valkyrie rolled her eyes and asked someone over her other shoulder, "This is another Earth thing, isn't it?"
> 
> "They place a great deal of importance on the names of the days of the week," Korg's familiar voice answered. "Did you know one of them is named for Thor?"
> 
> She scoffed. "Was that all you needed from me?"
> 
> "Well," Korg said, "I think Bruce would appreciate an apology."
> 
> Her eyes flicked outward momentarily as if she could actually see Bruce watching the recording and he sensed she was about to speak to him directly, but then she rotated a quarter-turn to her left. 
> 
> "Sorry I didn't do it sooner, Bruce." And then she _did_ speak to the camera, with a casual aside as she walked out, "We'll talk later, Dr. Banner."
> 
> The viewing angle didn't allow him to follow her out, but there was an unmistakable clang as a hatch closed behind her.
> 
> "All right, Bruce," the Korg on the terminal said, still just out of view, "come on. This is your chance."

Bruce looked to the flesh-and-blood Korg at his side—well, the rock-and-whatever Korg at his side. "Keep watching," Korg hissed and Bruce looked back at the screen just as it filled with green. 

A bare, green chest to be specific. The chest rocked to one side for a moment and then Hulk's face dropped into view. _He's kneeling in front of the camera_ , Bruce realized. _He's kneeling because otherwise, he's too tall to fit into the frame._

> "Go on, what did you want to say?"
> 
> "Banner is a shithead," Hulk said.
> 
> "Bruce!" off-screen Korg chided. " _What_ did we _just_ agree?"
> 
> Hulk rolled his eyes. "No pejoratives," he said sulkily.

Bruce blinked. _Did the big guy just…?_

> "Positive, non-judgemental statements only. How do you _feel_?"
> 
> "Hulk feels angry!"
> 
> "Because…"
> 
> "Because Banner is a—"
> 
> "Bruce…"
> 
> Hulk leaned into the camera and silently mouthed the words "poopy head".
> 
> "Explain the _reason_ you feel angry," Korg prompted.
> 
> He narrowed his eyes and said, "Banner is under misapprehension that Hulk is not a valued person with autonomy and rights." He turned his head to the side and addressed Korg off-screen. "Better?"
> 
> "Much better. And?"
> 
> "Hulk gets weekends including Friday, starting Thursday night."
> 
> "Politely," Korg nudged.
> 
> "Banner gets Sunday night through Thursday. That's one extra day for you and your science shit."

Bruce expected Korg to intervene off-screen, but he did not.

"I know you coached him on this speech," Bruce said. He was still bewildered that Hulk was even capable of repeating a rehearsed speech. "Those aren't his words."

> "Waste of time," Hulk grumbled, craning his head around. "Banner won't listen. Banner arrogant, condescending…"
> 
> "Baby steps, Bruce."

"Why do you keep calling him 'Bruce'," Bruce asked the Korg at his side.

"It's your name, isn't it? Do you have another name you prefer? Doug's real name was Aaalxardagaal, but he preferred Doug for some reason. I could call you David. Do you like David? You look like a David."

"No, I don't. And that's not the point." 

> In the midst of the disagreement, he missed the other disagreement going on on-screen, but he caught the tail end of Korg saying something like, "…opening a dialogue."
> 
> The big guy rolled his eyes so hard, his whole head swiveled. "Fine! Hulk opens dialogue. Hulk will listen if Banner has other suggestions. _Hulk_ is flexible."
> 
> "Excellent," Korg said, a sentiment echoed in real time at Bruce's side.
> 
> Hulk growled. Or sighed. Or sighed and growled. Bruce wasn't quite sure what you'd call it, but it was a less aggressive sound than Bruce expected.
> 
> "Hulk ready," he said, rolling his shoulders.
> 
> For the first time, Korg stepped into view of the camera, but his head was out of the shot as he stood behind the kneeling green monster. Rocky fingers began to massage at the big guy's neck and shoulders. 
> 
> "I'm really very proud of you, Bruce. This is very brave."
> 
> Hulk nodded in satisfaction, his eyes drifting closed. He slouched down, sinking out of camera range. No, he wasn't slouching, he was _shrinking_.
> 
> "Hulk proves," he said, the deep voice rapidly changing pitch, "who the bigger man really is."

"Shit," Bruce whispered.

"Yellow button," Korg said.

Bruce reached out trancelike and pressed the yellow button. Too distracted to even ask what it was for.

"Remember," Korg said, "Positive, non-judgemental statements only. How do you _feel_?"


	9. Negotiations and Love Songs

Bruce changed into his stretchy pants along with a borrowed Asgardian tunic and boots, which he carefully removed before sparring.

Brunnhilde laughed. Bruce was instantly self-conscious. It was probably a mistake to face her shirtless, but he wasn't going to back down now.

"What?" he said, "I don't want them to get torn up. Do you have any idea how many clothes and shoes I go through?"

"I was laughing at your stance," she clarified. Her eyes flicked down his body and she snickered again. "You really think you're going to fight me?"

"We're here to spar, aren't we?"

"Am I allowed to play with him first?" she asked Korg.

"I think it's less cruel if you get it over with quickly," Korg said.

"Fuck you both!" Bruce yelled. "Fight me!"

"Oh, Korg, you're right, he's _adorable_."

"I'll show you adorable!" Bruce said, bouncing on his heels. He charged like a bull, head-down and rammed her hard in the abdomen.

As he collapsed to the floor motionless, he wondered if he'd just snapped his own spine. The Valkyrie was still laughing as he blacked out.

+++

Carefully selecting stretchy pants hadn't helped at all. Bruce came to naked.

And _wet_.

Gathering his bearings was always a challenge, but this was the first time he'd ever de-hulked in the shower.

"It really is very relaxing, isn't it?" Korg said.

Bruce glanced to his left to find Korg also naked and wet. A glance right and there was Miek, wet but not naked. Or maybe Miek was always naked. Clothing merged with prosthetics in his case.

From what Bruce had been told, Miek lost all of his gear during the ultimate battle of Asgard, but the Asgardians were skilled armorers and had rearmed him—literally—in gratitude for his service.

"Relaxing," Bruce agreed, dubiously eyeing the blades Miek was wielding at approximately genital height. Why was the big guy showering with Korg and his… friend?… pet?

Bruce wasn't really sure whether Miek was a sentient lifeform or not and it seemed rude to ask so he figured it was safest just to treat him like he was and hope no one was laughing at him for trying to engage Korg's dog in conversation.

"Aren't you worried your blades will get rusty?" he asked.

Miek just glared at him.

There was a soap dispenser on the wall and since he was already in the shower, he figured he might as well get clean. He pumped out a dollop of soap and began to lather up.

"How long was I out for this time?" he asked.

"Two days. There's quite a lot more video for you to watch. I'm optimistic. This is really going well. You were fairly surprised to learn you had changed deliberately. I think negotiating voluntary shifts will be key to making peace with yourself."

He bristled at the way Korg continued to talk about him and the big guy as if they were the same person. 

He glanced over, intending to give Korg a piece of his mind, but he was distracted by the way Korg was staring right at his dick.

Korg did not have anything remotely dick-shaped between his own legs.

"How do Kronans reproduce?" Bruce asked. It was forward and rude, but the guy was staring at his dick so he felt he was entitled.

"Pretty much the same as Humans as I understand it," Korg said. It didn't occur to Bruce until much later to wonder why Korg understood _anything_ about Human reproduction. "Sexual intercourse followed by female pregnancy. Gestation doesn't last quite as long and it nearly always produces litters of at least four, usually six. Single births are rare and typically the result of illness."

"But you don't have… wait, are you a _lady_ Kronan?" Bruce modestly covered his groin with his hands without even realizing he was doing it.

Korg laughed. "Just because I don't keep my penis dangling on the outside, doesn't mean I don't have one."

"You have an _internal_ penis?" Bruce asked.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Huh." Bruce stepped back under the showerhead to rinse off. _I'm not going to ask_ he told himself. "How does that work?"

"Want to see it?"

For some reason, Bruce looked to Miek expecting more glaring from the murderous probably-not-an-alien-dog, but Miek was actually looking inquisitively at Korg. _Somebody_ wanted to see some rock monster dick.

"Sure," Bruce said, because, honestly, why the hell not?

Korg stepped into a wider stance, bent his knees a little, and reached down between his legs with both hands. He pressed something a bit farther back and suddenly a massive rock schlong just casually emerged from his general pubic area.

"That… looks…" 

Miek whistled.

"Painful. Painful is the word I was actually going for, but yeah, that too." It looked jagged and cracked and Bruce didn't know if he felt sorrier for Korg or his theoretical sex partner.

Korg nodded. "Bit rough around the edges at the moment. Yeah. It's the malnutrition. Not a lot of quality food in the fighting pits."

"You eat?" Bruce caught himself. It was a stupid question because, of course, all living things eat _something_. "What exactly? You eat what exactly?"

Korg stepped under his showerhead, rolling his shoulders under the hot water. "Don't worry about me. I hear Earth has some quality clay. Which I suppose you'd expect. You wouldn't name your planet after your dirt if you weren't proud of it." 

Bruce blinked and then it clicked. "Well, Earth actually means more like _land_ in that context, but, yeah, we definitely have clay."

Korg's jagged rock dick slowly, almost obscenely, retracted into his body.

Brunnhilde walked in stark naked and Bruce suddenly was in the opposite situation.

"Time's up!" she announced. "There's a line forming. How long does it take you lot to shower?"

Bruce scrambled to turn off the water and find a towel.

Korg followed him out and joined him on his towel-clad walk-of-shame past a dozen Asgardians lined up for the showers.

+++

They quickly dressed and then both Korg and Bruce began the long walk to the broken terminal where Korg said that Hulk had left another recording.

The ship was overcrowded and all aboard were preoccupied with more important things than Bruce Banner's wellbeing. Priority one was resupplying at a couple of trading posts on the way to Earth. Not starving to death was technically in Bruce's best interests, so he tried not to resent that he could still only get access to the broken terminal in an out-of-the-way corner of the ship.

He still generally resented that the Asgardians didn't respect him as a scientist.

"Do these people even understand what a scientist is?" he muttered. "If one more person tells me not to worry about trying to understand how their 'magic' works…"

The growl in his throat reverberated slightly more than it should have and he had to actively fight the urge to punch a hole in the wall of the passageway.

"You need to watch your recording first," Korg said calmly. His only concern about Bruce turning back into Hulk was that he hadn't answered his video-mail yet.

Korg ducked through the—to _him_ —low doorway and Bruce followed him through, no ducking necessary.

Korg had dragged a storage crate in front of the terminal as a makeshift chair when Bruce had recorded his last message. It was still too low for him, so he had to add a toolbox on top of it like a kiddie chair.

"This is ridiculous," Bruce mumbled as he powered up the terminal, referring to how he imagined he looked as well as the situation in general. Were he and the big guy really video penpals now?

There was one unopened file on the terminal. Bruce opened it and pressed play. In addition to the main view of Hulk, a small square in one corner showed an image of Bruce himself, half cut off at the bottom because he was too short for the camera.

> Hulk's face leaned in as he squinted in concentration.
>
>> **"Remember," Korg said off-camera, his voice strangely tinny, "Positive, non-judgemental statements only. How do you _feel_?"**
>> 
>>  **"Wait, wait," the tiny image of Bruce in the corner of the recording said. "You're recording now? I'm not ready."**

"Oh, no, you showed him _this_ part?" Bruce said. "Why would you show him this part? I just said I wasn't ready!"

> Hulk's head tilted to one side as he tried to process Bruce's various false starts.
>
>> **"Okay, okay," recorded-Bruce said. "Take two?"**
>> 
>>  **"Go for it!" recorded-Korg said.**
>> 
>>  **"Hello, um, Hulk."**
>> 
>>  **"'Bruce'," Korg corrected.**
>> 
>>  **"I'm not calling him Bruce. _I'm_ Bruce. Just… forget names. Nevermind. Take three. Okay. Ahem. Hello. Uh."**
> 
> On screen, Hulk began to snicker as Banner's voice droned on.
>
>> **"It has come to my attention that you are slightly more intelligent than I had realized. No, wait. That's insulting, isn't it?"**
> 
> "Yes," Hulk answered the recording.
>
>> **" _Somewhat_ more intelligent?"**
> 
> "Banner is so much stupider than Hulk thought," Hulk said over his shoulder as the recording continued.
> 
> "I don't think you're appreciating your level of stress while in Human form," Korg's recorded voice said from off-screen. "Look how teensy and vulnerable you are."
>
>> **Since they were talking over it, Bruce didn't think Hulk noticed as he told himself, "No, no qualifiers. Ahem. Take four."**
>> 
>>  **However, the big guy began laughing openly as he tried again, "Hello. It has come to my attention that you are more intelligent than I had realized and that there may be some benefit to negotiating a kind of, uh… You know what, I need to make notes first. Can we take a break?"**
> 
> Hulk flopped out of view, his laughter rumbling out of the monitor.

"He's literally rolling on the floor laughing, isn't he?" Bruce asked, belatedly realizing that the present tense was inappropriate. He turned to glare at Korg. "How is this supposed to be helpful again?"

"You're opening up lines of communication," Korg said, undeterred. "I think it's going quite well."

> Hulk was still chuckling out of view when… 
>
>> **Recorded-Bruce returned with a list of bullet-pointed demands. He was at least centered in the square this time thanks to the addition of the crate.**

"He wasn't even listening!" Bruce protested.

"He will! That is, he did!" Korg said. "I made him watch that part again later. You'll see. He'll address all of your points."

> Meanwhile, Hulk lifted his head back into the frame just long enough to wail, "Gods! He is soooo boooorrrrinngg! Where's Angry Girl? Hulk wants to fight."
> 
> "Bruce, you promised."
> 
> "Banner is not cute. Why do you keep saying Banner is cute? He's just boring. Boring. Boring. Boring."
> 
> "All right, stop," Korg said. "This is important. You need to go back and watch this part _without_ whining about it."
> 
> "Hulk doesn't whine," Hulk whined.

"Hulk whines _like a little bitch_ ," Bruce spat out, but he watched amazed as the big guy used an old hydraulic rod to press the too-small buttons on the terminal. "Okay, impressive tool use."

"You don't turn into an _animal_ , Bruce," Korg said at his side. "This is what I've been trying to tell you. The Hulk you know from before Sakaar was essentially an angry toddler. He was an inexperienced, frustrated, and frightened _child_." 

Bruce already had his mouth open to argue back and then hesitated.  _Child?_ The thought didn't fully register. Was Hulk smashing his way through innocent people really just an age-appropriate manifestation of the _Terrible Twos_? Out loud, all he managed to say was, "Huh."

"Does he still have a few anger-management issues?" Korg asked as, on-screen, the big guy was swearing at recorded-Bruce's third bullet point. "Sure, but aren't we all a work in progress?"

Bruce's paradigm didn't shift so much as quake, complete with aftershocks, as he watched. 

> Hulk stomped back into frame and hefted the crate high into the air. It was the standard black and red cargo crate that filled the ship. The yellow text was barely legible due to poor color-choice alone, but Bruce also hadn't placed much of a priority on learning Sakaaran since he very much hoped to never see the planet again. The words said something along the line of "this so above" or "as it is high" which Bruce had always taken for a vaguely religious inspirational saying.

Bruce flinched, fully expecting Hulk to smash the crate open even though it had to be the same crate he was sitting on, still very much in one piece.

> Instead, Hulk gently turned it over and set it down inverted so the arrow pointed up. He pointed at the crate now beyond the camera's view and quoted, "'This way up.' Moron."

"He can read Sakaaran?" Bruce whispered to himself. _Bruce_ hadn't even bothered to learn Sakaaran and _Hulk_ could. The crates didn't say _this so above_ or _as it is high_. They said _this way up_ and all this time, Bruce had imagined the arrows were just a decorative logo or something.

"I told you," Korg said, "you were on Sakaar for several decades. Bound to pick up a little."

"How long were _you_ on Sakaar? You never noticed the crates were upside down?"

"Noticed. Didn't care. It's the rebel in me."

> Hulk sat back down with a huff and ticked off his responses to Bruce's demands. "One, no. Two, maybe. Three, _hell_ no. Four, okay. Five, no, maybe, probably no."

Once again, all Bruce could say was, "Huh." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title ripped off from the Paul Simon song "Train in the Distance"
> 
>  
> 
> _Two disappointed believers_  
>  _Two people playing the game_  
>  _Negotiations and love songs_  
>  _Are often mistaken for one and the same_  
> 
> 
> _What is the point of this story?_   
>  _What information pertains?_   
>  _The thought that life could be better_   
>  _Is woven indelibly_   
>  _Into our hearts and our brains_   
> 


	10. The Light-bulb Moment

"Okay, seriously, what's Miek's problem?" Bruce asked, speeding up his pace to try and catch up with the Asgardians. "Is it just me? Does he glare at everyone?"

Brunnhilde shrugged.

"It's just you," Heimdall said.

"Why? What did I do?"

Heimdall kept walking down the corridor and didn't answer him, but Brunnhilde suggested, "Jealous probably."

"Jealous?"

"Yeah."

"Of me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"You seriously still don't get this?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Get what?"

"You know, for a supposedly smart guy…"

" _Will you just tell me?!_ "

"You realize Miek and Korg were super tight before Korg decided the universe revolves around you?"

"Revolves around me?" Bruce scoffed.

"Well, when I say _you_ I obviously mean the buff you who runs around shirtless a lot, but, I dunno, he seems to like you too. It would sort of be like a love triangle if two of the corners weren't the same person."

"We're not the same person," Bruce protested.

"Same dick," she said without a hint of embarrassment. "Even if Korg and you count as three separate people, there's just the one dick."

"Korg has his own penis," Bruce said.

"No, he doesn't," she said while shaking her head, looking more confused than contradictory.

"Yes, he does."

"I've seen you all naked, remember?" She sneered. Bruce thought it would have been embarrassing enough if she'd smirked, but sneering was worse. "I think I would have noticed a rock cock."

"It's retractable. He showed it to me."

"He showed you his retractable penis and you still needed me to explain he has the hots for you? Gods, Hulk is right. You're a moron."

+++

Bruce managed to convince Brunnhilde to keep Korg distracted while he recorded his next message for the big guy.

He hoped he could also trust her to keep him distracted when Hulk watched it as well.

This had the potential to get messy.

He started to record. Stopped. Took a deep breath.

He had to do this. The alternative was Hulk finding out the truth in more volatile circumstances. Bruce didn't want Korg to get hurt or really anyone to get hurt.

Except for Loki. 

And possibly Miek. 

Not really. But Squidward Scissorhands was seriously starting to creep Bruce out.

He started to record again.

"Hello, Hulk. There's, um, there's something you should know. I need you to stay really, really calm while I tell you. Okay?"

+++

Bruce slept well and woke up rested. He wiped the morning crust from his eyes and blinked blearily around.

Storage room again. 

He was lying on a pile of rocks that hadn't been there the other day and he had just enough time to sleepily wonder where the pile of rocks had come from—and why it was so inexplicably comfy—before he noticed that the rockpile was moving ever so slightly.

Korg. He was sleeping _on_ Korg.

"Good morning?" Bruce said as quietly as possible, hoping against hope that Korg was still asleep so he could skulk out quietly and pretend that sleeping on Korg was a thing that had never happened.

"Good morning!" Korg replied. His chest moved underneath Bruce even more, but somehow he maintained an almost cradling posture that exposed Bruce only to smooth stone. Not a single sharp corner or pebble poked him. "Sleep well?"

A quick inventory at least reassured Bruce that he still had his pants on. "I guess so. I feel… rested anyway."

He sat up. Korg shifted as well. Somehow all that their movement achieved was that he was now in Korg's lap and Korg had a dippy grin that made Bruce fear that Korg was about to tell him how teensy and adorable he was again.

Bruce flexed and rolled his left arm. Memory said it should be dislocated if not broken. Brunnhilde was having _way_ too much fun in their sparring sessions. 

It felt fine. 

"Did _you_ sleep well?" Bruce asked, edging off Korg's lap.

"Kronans don't experience physiological sleep quite the same way humans do."

Bruce froze. Or he would have frozen if gravity hadn't already taken over the slide off of Korg's lap.

"I had a nice inactive rest quarter," Korg continued.

"You were awake while I slept?" _On you_ , his brain continued.

"Kronans have a compartmentalized quad-brain that sleeps in turns. That way by the end of a full cycle the entire system has rested without ever being in a defenseless sleep state."

"So, only a quarter of your brain sleeps at one time," Bruce said. "It would be fascinating to do a detailed brain scan."

Korg beamed as if flattered. "Anytime. Although, it's more accurate to say that only a quarter of my brain is usually _awake_ at any one time. Obviously, if I'm talking that requires a second active quadrant."

"You're always talking," Bruce said, looking around for any sign of a shirt.

"But for simple functions, one quadrant is enough. Three quadrants will coordinate if serious calculating or decision-making is required."

"Never all four?" Bruce said. He found a dirty tunic that he thought he'd lost the week before and shook it out. Good enough.

"Only in hyper-awareness situations. Life or death circumstances. Sex."

Bruce had the tunic over his head and, for a moment, he wondered if he could just stay inside there forever. He had to figure out how to slip away from Korg to check his messages. He was starting to worry that the big guy hadn't seen his recording.

He popped his head out of the neck hole to find Korg smiling at him. "You should go check your messages on the terminal. I'll wait here. You said you wanted to talk to yourself privately."

"I did?"

Korg nodded.

"You don't mind?"

"I fully respect your privacy," Korg said. "You should go listen to that message now."

Korg's smile widened, but there was something off about it. It was a nervous sort of smile. On a Human, Bruce would have called it _stiff_ , but maybe that was just how Kronans smiled. 

+++

> Hulk's big green face filled the screen and then backed off to a more reasonable distance as he settled on his crate.

Bruce watched from his perch on the toolbox. It had been dented in the meantime, suggesting the big guy had just flung it out of his way, but someone had put back in place, which made him worry that Korg could be watching in the background despite Brunnhilde's promise to keep him busy.

If it had been about anything else he would have fast-forwarded to the green guy's reply. He didn't need to re-watch himself being an idiot, but he had to know what Hulk had seen and how he had reacted to it. It weirded him out that the terminal seemed to auto-record during playback. Was it supposed to do that or was that another bug?

> > **"Hello, Hulk. There's, um, there's something you should know. I need you to stay really, really calm while I tell you. Okay?"**
> 
> Hulk frowned suspiciously.

Telling him to _stay really, really calm_ had probably not been Bruce's best opener.

> > **"I didn't want you to find out in a setting where you'd feel stressed out. I don't want anyone to get hurt here. Physically or, y'know, emotionally. I think it's important to let him down easy. You know what that means? 'Let him down easy'?"**
> 
> On screen, Hulk only rolled his eyes and seemed a heartbeat away from complaining about how boring Banner was again.
>
>> **"The thing is, I'm pretty sure Korg likes you. At least Brunnhilde says so." Bruce hadn't been sure Hulk knew who that was, so he had added, "Angry Girl says Korg likes you."**
> 
> Hulk blinked curiously.
>
>> **"Like, uh, _like_ -likes you."**
> 
> Hulk smiled.

"Shit," Bruce cursed under his breath. "I didn't explain that well at all."

> > **On screen, Bruce continued his terrible explanation. "Like, possibly in a _romantic_ —not to say actually sexual—kind of way. At least I hope not sexual. He's made out of rocks. You can't have sex with rocks. He has to understand that a flesh-and-blood person cannot have sex with rocks. Although, honestly, I don't even understand how rocks have sex with rocks. I've seen him naked and, I have to tell you, there are a _lot_ of sharp edges involved…"**
> 
> There had been more and it had all been awful, but it didn't matter because as the recording babbled on, Hulk had already walked away.

"Shit!" Bruce repeated. "I, I could not have explained that any worse."

He couldn't stand to watch any more of it and jabbed the button to make it stop. 

He stared at the monitor. Instead of the typical blank screen when he switched it off, there were symbols at the bottom. Bruce was still embarrassed by his lack of fluency in Sakaaran script, but one symbol definitely meant _one_ and the others translated as something like _not seen_. "One unread message?" Bruce guessed.

He found the message directory and discovered not one but _two_ messages timestamped after the recording he'd just watched. Although only the last one was designated unseen.

He decided to watch them in order and brought up the next video.

> The familiar green face filled the screen. Brows furrowed, nostrils flaring. He was not a happy Hulk.
> 
> "Banner," he snarled, "will _talk_ to Korg."
> 
> Bruce flinched as the monster literally growled. 
> 
> And then the monster sulked. His shoulders hunched. His head drooped. His lower lip _wibbled_. 
> 
> He steeled himself and growled again, but it was obvious to even Bruce that the big guy's heart wasn't it.
> 
> "Banner will _not_ be an asshole!"

"I don't know what you're even talking about," Bruce said as if Hulk could hear him. Although assuming the big guy wasn't fast-forwarding through the playback, he'd hear it eventually. It was almost as if they could have a real conversation. 

Unfortunately, the conversation took weeks instead of minutes.

> "Hulk deserves to be happy!"

"Okay, okay," Bruce said. 

He still wasn't entirely sure he believed that. There was the little matter of Hulk's murderous rages and the uncountable dead he was responsible for, but… if Korg's toddler analogy was correct, Bruce was starting to think he himself was more to blame.

"What are we talking about again?" Bruce asked. "Maybe a little more talking and a little less yelling."

> On screen, Hulk went silent. He slumped more, looking smaller. Bruce jumped back as Hulk suddenly punched himself in the face.

"Hey! That's not cool!" Bruce snapped. "Was that… was that me? You were about to turn back into me, weren't you?"

> Hulk huffed and announced, " _One_ day a week. Hulk will take one day a week. It doesn't even have to be on a weekend. Wednesday. Thursday. Banner can pick. Just one day a week if Hulk can be happy."
> 
> Hulk got up and shuffled off-screen before returning with the battered toolbox. He placed it almost daintily on top of the crate and brushed dust off of it with one hand before turning back to the monitor and switching it off.

"What the hell?" Bruce muttered. He stared at the blank screen for a moment before playing the last message.

> Miek's head was just barely poking into the frame at the bottom of the screen.
>
>> **"Remember. Positive, non-judgemental statements only. How do you feel?"**
>> 
>>  **"Wait, wait. You're recording now? I'm not ready."**

"Why, that eavesdropping little son of a bitch!" 

The auto-record during playback had to be a security feature to prevent exactly this sort of breach from going unnoticed. The non-scientist corner of his brain was too busy being mortified to give it much follow-up thought.

Bruce fast-forwarded to confirm that Miek watched every last second of his messages with Hulk. Miek had watched silently other than the occasional swish of metal as he waved his weapons around. "Yeah, that's not threatening at all," Bruce muttered.

Bruce slowed the video back to normal speed on the last message. He wanted a second chance to listen to Hulk's response and try and figure out what he was talking about. Talk to Korg, don't be an asshole, one day a week to be happy. 

At first, he'd thought he was supposed to talk to Korg about backing off and giving Hulk space—what else was he so angry about?—but one day a week to be happy sounded more like… like… 

"Hulk is trying to schedule _a date night_ ," Bruce whispered. And they'd woken up snuggling, in as much as you could _snuggle_ with a pile of rocks. "Oh, my God, you _can't have sex with rocks_! It won't work!"

Bruce rubbed his temples while he assessed the situation.

"Fabulous. Hulk wants to date rocks. Korg has a crazy ex-boyfriend. This couldn't possibly get any worse." 


	11. Infinity War

It got so much fucking worse, Bruce couldn't even.

It's not that Bruce forgot entirely, but what with the whole saving the universe thing, Hulk's love life had been pushed so far down his priority list it just wasn't a thing he was thinking about anymore.

The Asgardians were settling into rural Norway, keeping out of the public eye with the help of Wakandan technology. Bruce was sticking with them, partly because it was a safe place to keep Hulk out of trouble but mostly because researching Asgardian cellular structure was _fascinating_.


	12. Korg Smash

"I'm blind!" Tony screamed. "Oh, God, my eyes!"

Steve jumped to his aid, giving him an eyeful as well. "Gleep!"

"Hey! Stay off my laptop!" Bruce shouted from across the lab.

"Gleep?" Steve repeated.

"You _broke_ Captain America, are you happy now?" Tony said, waving an accusing finger at the shell of humanity that was Steve Rogers. Steve was still staring at the laptop bug-eyed.

"Let me guess," Thor laughed. "Big green dick pics? That's how I lost this eye, you know. _Still_ in my brain."

"That _has_ to be causing internal injuries," Steve said, _still_ staring at the laptop in horror.

Thor stopped laughing.

"Apparently, Korg _also_ smash," Tony said.

"Oh, for the love of…" Bruce walked across the lab and slammed the laptop closed. "Privacy, people! What happens between two consenting adult monsters is none of your business."

"You're okay with that?" Tony asked. Despite the melodramatic shrieking, he recovered his composure before the others.

"Not having this conversation in the lab," Bruce said. "Some of us are professionals."

"But why is there _video_?" Tony asked.

Bruce could have told Tony that Hulk and Korg had clearly misunderstood when he'd listed _staying informed_ as one of his conditions, but that wouldn't explain why he'd _saved_ the video—or why Bruce had already watched it twice.

Bruce just went back to his workstation. "The thing that's really interesting about Asgardian stem cells…"

"We'll talk later," Tony said.

"Hello!" Korg said, brightly, ducking through the lab doorway.

"Hello!" Steve said. "Hi! I have to leave! To do a thing!"

"Right!" Thor said. "The thing! The thing that we have to go and do elsewhere!"

Steve and Thor hustled out. 

Tony sipped his coffee and leaned against the counter. And smirked.

"Is it six o'clock already?" Bruce asked.

"Six _twenty_ ," Korg said.

"Oh." Bruce looked wistfully at his experiment. He'd planned to be done in plenty of time, but he'd had a few false starts in the morning so that now it was going to be at least two hours before he had any meaningful results, but there was a roughly 60% chance this was also going to be a dead end as well and he'd need to start over.

Asgardian cellular biology was unreal. There _had_ to be some way to utilize their self-healing ability to combat Human diseases. But so far…

Korg seemed to read his mind. He nodded and then settled in, squatting against the far wall. "I'll wait."

"No, no. I promised. 'Maintaining agreed-upon schedules is vital to trust.' Your words." He turned to Tony and said, "Make sure you log the results. I'll see you Monday."

"Monday?" The smirk fell off of Tony's face. "You're taking the entire weekend? Since when do you take weekends off?"

"Tony, I know this is a cliché, but _it's complicated_."

Tony glanced sidelong at Bruce's laptop, which was a good reminder to take it with him. And change the password. Not that it would slow Tony down at all, but it was the principle of the thing. 

New password: [T0ny5tark_is_a_P33pingT0m]

+++ 

Things were going… well. 

Or at least aside from a few death threats from Miek who had picked up a Wakandan translator unit. 

(Bruce was slightly concerned that Miek and Shuri seemed to be buddies now. Miek was even more homicidal than Bruce had imagined yet Shuri thought it was a good idea to give him even _more_ weapons to try out.)

The system still had a few glitches. Whatever Miek's native tongue was it didn't translate well into English. The part about pain and kneecaps was pretty clear though.

Miek obviously hadn't worked out exactly how the Banner-Hulk transformation worked or he'd know he was threatening Bruce with his own demise. So for Miek's sake, Bruce avoided him as much as possible.

Korg continued to insist that Bruce was imagining any hostilities and that he and Miek were never like that. Bruce studiously avoided making any _dense_ comments about his rock monster boyfriend.

Okay, technically _Hulk's_ rock monster boyfriend but…

That was the complicated part.

Bruce had erotic dreams—occasionally quite vivid, and not nearly as painful as you'd think—and he always woke up feeling _amazing_ , which was an experience he could get used to.

Hulk was getting the sex, but Banner was getting the afterglow.

Was that fair?

"Does he get angry," Bruce began, knowing the answer was inevitably going to be yes, "that I cheat him out of cuddle time?"

"You should be asking _me_ whether I resent the way you fall asleep as soon as you're done," Korg said.

Bruce was never going to convince Korg to stop thinking of Hulk and Banner as a single person. He'd given up even debating it.

"Yes, but…"

"That's why I insist on pre-sex cuddle time," Korg added.

"Oh." Bruce relaxed and sleepily rested his head back on Korg's chest as he wondered what _this_ was then. "Wait, so you're getting double cuddle time," he realized, popping his head back up to look his— _Hulk's? their?_ —boyfriend in the eye.

Korg beamed for a moment but then gave Bruce a concerned look. "Do you ever resent not having sex when you're in Human form? I'd imagine that could get frustrating over time."

"Horny. Horny is the word you're looking for. At some point, we might need to have a conversation about other people because, yeah, there's a certain itch that only another Human can scratch, but, you know, in the meantime, the afterglow is kind of the best part anyway."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to help you scratch that itch?"

"Korg, you would _shred_ that itch. I'm not that much of a masochist." He didn't bother repeating, _You can't have sex with rocks_ since he now had an extensive video library proving that you, in fact, could. Also, the video was kind of hot. "What's today?"

"Saturday."

"Time?"

"Bit after lunch."

Which meant he owed Hulk a day and a half.

Which he didn't even resent. At all.

Because it would be another day and a half of freaky sex from which Bruce would wake up even more relaxed than he was now, not to mention all the new video footage to look forward to. Never in a million years would he have imagined developing a rock fetish.

He needed to invent a better encryption method for his files.

Screw it. He should just forward all the video directly to Tony. It would save time.

Bruce stood up and stretched and tried to think angry thoughts. _Come on, big guy, Hulk smash._

He succeeded only in making himself even hornier.

Korg giggled. "You're so—"

"Do not, under any circumstances," Bruce warned, "call my dick teensy and adorable."

"You're just so _cute_!"

"Stop it. 'Cute' is just code for teensy and adorable. Don't."

Korg rolled onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. It was virtually impossible to read stone lips, but Bruce was still pretty sure he silently mouthed, "So cute," again.

"You're going to have to hit me," Bruce said.

"No," Korg said.

"I'm not angry enough to change back. I'm all… happy and mellow. It's weird." 

Nice. 

But weird.

Bruce couldn't remember the last time he had felt _mellow_.

"Do you _want_ to _get angry_?" Korg asked. "Because if you're not in the mood, that's fine. You've got a sparring session with the Valkyrie in the morning. That's pretty much guaranteed to get you green."

"I'm pretty sure I want to _get angry_ now, yes," Bruce said. Perhaps pure sexual frustration would do the trick eventually.

Korg sat up and asked again, "Are you _sure_?"

"I'm sure. I just said I was sure."

Korg sighed. "Okay, so you want to have another go at trying to explain the political system in the United States? Because I still don't understand how…"

"It would be less painful if you hit me," Bruce groaned. "Okay, so imagine the Grandmaster didn't have any superpowers other than being really rich…"


	13. The Second Batch of Chocolate Chip Cookies

Miek tried to join their morning sparring session, but Brunnhilde kicked him out.

"I'm not cleaning slug guts out of my gym."

Miek waved his blades menacingly.

"Which won't stop him from killing you," Brunhilde pointed out. "It'll just add Human blood to the slug guts."

Bruce still flinched. He had no doubt that Hulk would _win_ the fight, but Bruce would suffer for it first.

"[[kneecaps of you]] [[dishonor of Korg]] [[regret]] [[clean slice]]"

"I agree completely," Brunnhilde said still pointing at the door. "One kneecap for you. One kneecap for me. Now get out."

"You understand him?" Bruce said. "I can't get the translator to work on his language. I get words and phrases, but they don't make sense."

She shrugged. "Eh, I got the gist. It's the classic big brother speech: 'Break Korg's heart, I break your kneecaps' sort of thing."

"Huh. I thought you said Miek was the jealous ex."

She shrugged. "Now I'm getting more of a platonic protective vibe."

"Wait, why do _you_ get a kneecap?"

"Break Hulk's heart, I break your kneecaps."

"Okay, fair."

"Oh, gods," she whined, rolling her eyes. "Do you _have_ to take your shirt off every time?"

"It's just going to rip if I don't—"

"Your _pants_ stretch. Can't we get you a stretchy shirt?"

"You don't object to Hulk running around half-naked all the time, but when I—"

"He's not as furry as you are," she said, wrinkling her nose.

Bruce huffed.

"Sorry! I'm sure you're very attractive to people who are into that sort of thing."

"Just hit me in the face and get it over with."

"Okay."

+++

"Tony said you were sick," Shuri said. She was standing on the doorstep with what looked like a full medkit slung over one shoulder and a tray of food in her hands.

Bruce gestured to all of it. "What is all of this?"

"He said you were _really_ sick, but I wasn't sure if that meant emergency-measures sick or chicken-soup sick. So I came prepared for both."

"You brought me chicken soup from _another continent_ because I didn't go into the lab today?"

"Tony said—"

"I'm not sick. I just took the day off."

"On a _Tuesday_?" She pushed her way in and set everything down. Before he knew it, she had some sort of scanner out and was waving it at him. "Hmm, your temperature is within normal parameters."

"I've explained this before," Bruce said. "Hulk has my weekends. If I want to take a day off, then, yes, it has to be during the week. It's just a personal day. Not a sick day."

"Uh-huh." She barely glanced up from her scanner. "Blood pressure mildly elevated."

Bruce stalked through the living room and yelled out the back door. "Korg, will you tell her I'm not sick! I'm just taking a personal day!"

"Hullo, Shuri!" Korg called back from his mud pit.

"Hi, Korg! Nice mud pit."

"I know, right? You people have the _best_ dirt on this planet. I'm gonna get so fat! Ha-ha!"

"Ha!" she called back cheerfully and then as a quiet aside to Bruce asked, "He eats the mud?"

"Yeah, I know it's gross," Bruce said, walking back to the kitchen as Shuri trailed behind.

"The mud that he's wallowing around in?"

"Yup."

"That's like…"

"Like if I soaked in a bathtub of banana pudding and then ate it. I know. But, y'know, I'm sure that I have Human habits that weird him out too. And he's not wrong about putting on weight; I've noticed a lot fewer sharp edges lately."

"So it's like food and moisturizer… and spackle?"

"That's a very imprecise, but not entirely inaccurate summary, yes. I think Hulk's rock-monster boyfriend is turning into a mud-monster boyfriend," which had a few additional benefits that Bruce was not repeating in front of a Wakandan princess.

" _Hulk's_ boyfriend or _your_ boyfriend? Because it looks like you're living together now?" She pointed at the abundance of oversized custom furniture.

Bruce almost gave the pat _just friends_ reply, but it wasn't quite true these days. "It's easier this way. Kitchen is through here."

The entire house had been custom built with a larger scale in mind. Neither Korg nor Hulk had to duck or turn sideways to fit through any doorways. It made the place feel excessively large to Bruce and he had the urge to apologize for what he thought might look like an ostentatious floorplan. He had to remind himself that to people like Shuri and Tony, his house was downright modest.

The kitchen was slightly awkward. Reasoning that it was easier for Bruce to step up than for Korg and Hulk to crouch down, the counters were installed high with a built-in step so that Bruce could comfortably use them. But that meant going up and down steps every time he crossed the kitchen. Typically that wasn't much of a hassle. It wasn't as if Bruce cooked often. But on a baking day…

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, realizing he'd left yet another crucial ingredient just out of reach. "Would you hand me the brown sugar? Oh, and I'm going to need the eggs next."

Shuri shook her head in disbelief, but she put away her scanner and helped with the cookies.

"I know Americans are famous for super-sizing their food, but this is little over-the-top, isn't it?" she asked as they patted the last of a dozen pizza pans full of cookie dough.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if this is going to be enough," Bruce said. The recipe claimed each pan was twelve servings, but he was counting them each as a single oversized cookie.

"How much can you _eat_?"

" _Me?_ Oh, I'll cut one into individual portions and have a few of those. You're welcome to have some as well. The rest of them are for the big guy."

"He eats mud," Shuri said matter-of-factly since Bruce was clearly dense. "Why would you put all this effort into making him cookies?"

"Hmm? Oh, uh, I meant the _other_ big guy. He's never had real ones. It has come to my attention that there are a few… _Human delicacies_ he's been missing out on."

" _American_ delicacies," Shuri corrected with a sniff. "I suppose you're going to force him to eat peanut butter and drink root beer too."

"Excellent idea," Bruce smiled. "Maybe I can find a recipe for deep-fried Twinkies."

"I can't even tell if you're joking."

"I don't even know anymore myself these days," Bruce said as he slid the first batch of pans into the oven. Just as he was closing the oven door, a chime sounded from the next room.

"What? You have more baking in the other room?" Shuri asked.

" _That_ means my computer simulation has finished running," Bruce said. "You didn't honestly think that taking a personal day meant I wasn't still working from home, did you? Oh, my God, no wonder Tony thought I was sick."

Shuri laughed. "I fully expected to find you passed out in a puddle of bile after horking up your liver."

"I'm sorry," Bruce apologized. "I should have been more clear."

From what he'd seen of her in action, he'd thought of her as a Gadget Girl, engineer type, but she did a more-than-solid job helping to analyze the computer simulations' genetic projections of Asgardian cell growth in Human cell cultures. Bruce had barely begun to explain when Shuri cut him off and pointed to a pattern in the data. The laboratory experiments had produced so many interesting results; he couldn't decide which to focus on next. The simulations based on his results might help him narrow down the next experiment and if Shuri was right… 

It seemed like no more than five minutes could have passed when the buzzer went off signalling it was time to pull the first batch of cookies from the oven.

"They don't look cooked," Shuri said.

"They're perfect."

"You should bake them longer."

"They'll burn."

"Look, they're still gooey in the center."

"They're supposed to be gooey. Gooey chocolate chip cookies are the best. If you cook them too long they end up all dry and crusty."

"Hello," Korg said. "Do I smell bread?"

"Better," Bruce announced, before turning around and seeing the mud Korg was tracking inside. "Korg! We talked about this! You have to stay on the tile until you're dry."

Korg skirted the area rug and crossed the tile floor to the kitchen.

"Do you eat bread as well as mud?" Shuri asked.

"In a pinch. I like pumpernickel."

"This is so much better than pumpernickel," Bruce said putting the last of the second batch into the oven. "Remember when I said I was going to show you what _real_ chocolate chip cookies taste like?"

"You did all this work for me?" Korg asked blinking at Bruce.

"Well, no, actually," Bruce admitted. "Based on your reaction to ice cream, I'm not sure Human desserts are really your thing. You're more than welcome to try them—"

Bruce paused to swat Korg's muddy hand away. 

"— _after_ you've dried out. But I was thinking of Hulk."

"Hulk?" Korg whispered.

"Hulk is flesh and blood. All flesh and blood creatures appreciate chocolate chip cookies."

Shuri was poking suspiciously at the center of one of the pans, leaving finger-sized indentations 

"Is it supposed to do this?" she asked.

"Yes, stop poking it. It's fine. They're meant to be gooey."

"Bruce," Korg squeaked.

Bruce knew that squeak. Bruce was about to be called adorable again.

Instead, Korg stretched out his arms, the universal request for a hug.

He was still wet and shiny with clay slurry and Bruce had just done laundry, but, ah, screw it. He should just think of his clothing as disposable anyway.

Bruce walked into Korg's arms and let himself be embraced. He was smoother than he used to be, a healthy diet and regular mudbaths combining to fill in the cracks and smooth out the rough edges. Bruce couldn't get his arms all the way around him, but he hugged back as best he could, still amazed by the way his fingers sunk ever so slightly into Korg's almost fleshy clay.

"Can I get my cookies to go?" Shuri asked. "This is getting weird."

"Help yourself," Bruce said. 

"I'll leave the chicken soup. Sick or not, I hear it's a good idea to replenish your fluids."

**AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER, DAMMIT! THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> additional characters: Miek, Heimdall, Thor, Loki, Brunnhilde/Valkyrie, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Shuri, and miscellaneous Asgardians
> 
>  
> 
> [Feed the plot bunnies!](https://oldtoadwoman.dreamwidth.org/62203.html) I'm easily swayed by people going, "OMG! You should totally finish that story where Miss Piggy and Janice are roommates!" or "It's time for another _Supernatural_ story!" Comments and discussion welcome at [my Dreamwidth account](https://oldtoadwoman.dreamwidth.org/85900.html). 
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos are love! (Bookmarks are pimps?)


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